Deeper Than This
by Ayumi Kairo
Summary: Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. Will he be able to save her in time. VinTi
1. I: The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING... so you can sue me, but about all you'll get is an old computer and a really crappy t.v. :goes off to cry over it:**

**Chapter 1: The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You**

_/gaze into her killing jar I'd sometimes stare for hours/ she even poked the whole so i can breathe/ she bought the last line/ I'm just the worst kind/ of guy to argue with what you might find/ and for the last night I lie/ could I lie with you/ Alright/ Give up/ Get down it's just the hardest part of living/ Alright/ she wants it all to come down this time/ lost in the perscription she's got something else in mind/ check into the hotel bella muerte/ it gives the weak flight/ it gives the blind sight/ Until the cops come/ or by the last night/ and for the last night i lie/ could i lie next to you/ pull the plug/ but i'd like to learn your name/ when holding on/ well i hope you do the same/ Aww sugar/_

"I can't believe you!" Cloud yelled across the room. He turned away from her and walked out the door. She followed him out into the hall, hysterically crying now.

"Why won't you just listen to me?" Tifa cried. "You said you loved me! If you love me, give me a chance to explain myself!"

He kept walking and she followed into the kitchen. He went to the cabinet to the sink and grabbed a glass. He filled it with water and took a drink. Turning around to face her again he nodded his head for her to start talking again.

"I spoke to her last night Cloud." Tifa began softly. "She was scared and wanted desperately to tell me something."

"Tifa…" Cloud warned quietly.

"Don't dismiss this as some hallucination, it happened." Tifa said, her voice rising again as she stomped her foot in frustration.

"Oh, I'm sure it did Tifa." Cloud said nodding his head. There was something in his tone Tifa didn't like. "It happened. To you, it happened, you found it so real. It happened because you wanted it bad enough."

"What?" Tifa creased her brow in confusion. Cloud's smirk made her stomach flip and she almost felt sick.

"You were always jealous of her." Cloud said, more to himself than to her.

"Jealous?" Tifa was so confused and her nausea didn't abate in the slightest.

"Yes, jealous." Cloud leaned back against the counter. "She was able to talk to the planet and it killed you that maybe someone was more special than you. I'm so sorry Tifa that the spotlight was taken away from you for a few moments. Well, now you have nothing to worry about. She's gone, you get all the attention again. Congratulations, you benefit in her death."

"She shouldn't have died." Tifa said quietly, hanging her head. The tears slipped down her cheeks at the thought of her deceased friend. She brought her gaze back up to Cloud's. "But we're still here." She continued, "She may be gone, but we're still here and we need to listen to what she has to say and fight this. We're not dead yet Cloud."

The glass shattered as it hit the wall, the water running down from the spot Cloud threw it. He lunged at her and pinned her to the wall, holding her up by her shoulders. He pressed tightly on her muscles, making sure he'd leave a mark. He wanted nothing more in that moment but to give her pain. It was hard to keep hold of her through her black long sleeved shirt though, and he felt her start to slip from his grasp.

"Yes, we are still here, Tifa! But as far as I'm concerned, it should have been you instead of her." He threw her to the ground and walked over her not taking notice of her head hitting the tile floor hard enough to temporarily daze her. He grabbed the bag he'd been packing earlier and turned the door knob. Opening the door he turned back to her. "I'd rather you be dead." With that he walked outside, slamming the door behind him.

She didn't get up immediately. She sat there on the ground crying like she couldn't remember doing since her father died. He wanted her dead? He would rather have Aerith here and alive and herself dead and under the water in the forgotten city? She didn't know he felt that way. She hadn't meant to make him mad, what had she done?

_**You didn't do anything darling, you know that. You know to listen to us, he has never heard any of us speak. He cannot understand what you do is important.**_

_But he said he loved me. Now he's telling me he wants me dead. I just wanted to help you. You don't realize that you're making my life hell._

_**DON'T SPEAK TO US LIKE THAT TIFA, YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU. NOW WHAT DO YOU NEED TO DO?**_

She held her ears against the yelling going on inside her head. With it came bright lights and excruciating pain. Her eyes watered when she shut them tight against the pain. She wanted nothing more than for it to stop. It was happening more often than usual. The voices would come in times when she was feeling extreme emotions and they were usually not very friendly. She slowly got up from the floor and stumbled to a chair at the table. She held herself and rocked back and forth trying to stave off threatening gooseflesh. She let the tears fall down her face freely and she listened as the voices continued to verbally attack her. They were always so degrading, always finding something to put her down . She couldn't seem to ignore them.

Eventually she just listened to them, she stopped fighting back and listened to every slanderous word that came from the voice. This one was angry, she'd never heard it before. She had been so grateful last night to hear Aerith, someone she knew. That was until Aerith told her that terrible news. The news Cloud wouldn't listen to. Didn't he know that if Aerith was speaking to her, it must be important. She knew she shouldn't have told him about the voices. She was probably lucky he hadn't thrown her in some asylum yet.

The voice grew dimmer in her mind. Eventually she could just hear, she wasn't forced to listen to whatever it was saying. She was completely numb. She smiled faintly at that thought. Oh what would life be like to go through it not being able to feel anything. It would be scary, she told herself. She was already starting to get scared. She really couldn't feel anything and it was scaring the shit out of her. She wanted to feel something, anything.

She started scratching at her left arm. Her fingernails dug into that soft skin and it turned red. It wasn't enough, all she felt was pressure nothing else. She needed something different.

She forced her breathing to calm. She wasn't going to give in this time. This time she'd fight it. The last time she nearly passed out and she didn't want Cloud to come home to see her lying on the ground unconscious. But Cloud wasn't coming home anymore. He was gone for good. No one would know what happened until the cops showed up next Tuesday when she didn't go to work.

She stood from the chair and bent down to start picking up the glass that had shattered on the floor. No, she wouldn't give in this time. She couldn't, the feeling would eventually come back. She just had to give it some time. After all, she had felt the pressure of her nails on her skin just a few seconds ago. That was a start, she didn't need to take it this far.

A piece of glass escaped her fingers and fell to the floor again. At the sound of it hitting the tile she looked down at it. It was the biggest piece of glass laying there. Setting the other pieces down next to her she picked up the one that had fallen.

It sparkled in the dim lights of her kitchen. The fluorescent lamps illuminating it somewhat. It was still slick with water and it drenched her fingers where she was touching it. It felt heavy in her hand and she almost dropped it again.

It would give her the feeling she needed, it could be her escape from the numbness that threatened to consume her. She raised it to her eyes and looked through it. She saw the kitchen table and the sink behind it. Cloud was just standing right there, talking normally to her. The events of what just happened played through her mind again and she closed her eyes against the images. The numb feeling became more and more complete and she dropped her hand back down to her lap.

Both of her arms were laying limply in front of her. She lifted the glass again and lightly traced a thin line across the inside of her forearm. Again all she felt was pressure and she pressed harder on the skin. The jagged edge of the glass broke through and she smiled at the pain it brought. But along with pain brought blood. With each stroke she made with the glass the more blood poured from the wound. The incision was just as jagged as the glass itself and her arm looked like a five-year-old's piece of paper. Each time she made another little slit she would pick the glass up out of her arm and start a new one. Soon her arm was nothing but a mess of deep gashes and a thick sheen of blood covering the now ripped skin.

She dropped the glass at the sight of it. Her tears had stopped and her eyes looked in horror at what she had done. Feeling was coming back to her quickly, too quickly. She cried out in pain and cradled her injured arm in the other. She scooted back and leaned against the wall. The floor below her was covered in the warm, crimson liquid that was flowing from her wrist. The sight almost made her sick.

_**You shouldn't do these things to yourself little one, see what happens when you do? You bleed, you bleed more and more each time. When will you stop bleeding darling? When you finally die. You deserve to die, you know that? You deserve to be with the damned that always speak to you. They want you with them, they want to hurt you, rape you, and kill you. If you kill yourself you won't give them that chance.**_

"Stop, please just stop…" Tifa whimpered to the voices. She wanted them to just go away. "Leave me in peace. Please, just go away."

_**You do know it, don't you little one? How can you not when you have him screaming it in your face. You should have died Tifa, she should have lived. You should have died, you should have died, you should have died, you should have died, you should have died…**_

Maybe it would be better to live numbly. She wouldn't have to listen to these voices anymore. She wanted nothing more than to shut them up. They were repeating the same line to her over and over. There was one person she knew that had escaped the pain. One person who was completely numb to emotion. One person who could help her, and that one person only lived a few blocks away.

Note: How did you like it? Was it okay or did it suck. You know who that one person is, don't you? I hope so, I mean it's pretty obvious. To me anyways. Yeah I know very angsty and depressing and sort of disturbing but it gets better… I think… I hope… for Tifa's sake at least. No, I have nothing against Cloud and Tifa. In fact, believe it or not, I'm a Cloud and Tifa fan. If you hate me because of the Cloud yelling at Tifa bit, I'm sorry. All I can say is that it does get better, with time. And just to set a record strait, I'd like to say that I didn't mean for Tifa to be all weak and helpless. It's just, that's how I see things happening if someone were to have disturbing voices speaking to them.


	2. II: Breaking The Habit

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own a thing sorry.

**Note: 144 hits and 2 reviews! I'm kind of disappointed. Please Review. If you want to this continue I need to know you like it. I think this chapter is a little bit shorter and I apologize to whoever hates reading short chapters.**

Chapter 2: Breaking the Habit

_/Memories consume/Like opening the wound/I'm picking me apart again/You all assume/I'm safe here in my room/Unless I try to start again/I don't want to be the one/The battles always choose/'Cause inside I realize/That I'm the one confused/I don't know what's worth fighting for/Or why I have to scream/I don't know why I instigate/And say what I don't mean/I don't know how I got this way/I know it's not alright/So I'm breaking the habit/I'm breaking the habit /Tonight/Clutching my cure/I tightly lock the door/I try to catch my breath again/I hurt much more/Than anytime before/I had no options left again/ -Linkin Park_

She ran as fast as she could. The rain was coming down harder now, and she could feel her hair sticking to her neck. Her sleeve was sticking to her arm too, but that was because of another liquid that was drenching it. The rain carried the smell away but she knew it lingered around her. It still lingered in her kitchen. She hadn't taken the time to clean up the mess she'd left on the floor.

She had been in such a hurry, she'd run up the stairs and into the room that used to be hers and Cloud's. now it seemed so empty without his Buster Sword leaning up against the chest at the foot of their bed. The blankets weren't made, just the way he'd left them when he'd discovered she wasn't laying right beside him and found her in the room with all of _her _stuff.

She'd almost broke down again right there but stopped herself and made her way to their dresser. She took her long-sleeved, zip-up hoodie from the second drawer. It was tangled in some of his sweatshirts that she kept in there for when she wanted something heavier than her thin, little jackets. She threw all of his stuff down on the ground in a desperate attempt to free her hoodie. Finally she'd succeeded and she zipped it up all the way to her neck.

She hadn't counted on it being raining. She could've sworn she saw the sun just a few moments ago when she'd been in the kitchen listening to Cloud yell at her. Maybe it had always been raining and she was just a pore excuse for a weather girl. It would just add to the other things she was a poor excuse for. A friend, a comrade, a lover. She was no good at anything she wanted to be, and now she was running. Running away from it all.

Taking the cowards way out seemed to be an ongoing trend for her. She always chose the easy way to go. Never taking unnecessary risks, even if they would get her to her destination sooner. No, she was a weakling and she would always be that way. If she didn't do something about it.

That was what she was doing now. Doing something about her cowardice, and taking action where she needed to. Though she was crying like a little baby the whole way there. She was wet and tired and so full of those stupid, fucking emotions. Now, she would finally be able to do something about them.

She stopped in front of the gate and looked up at the tall, intimidating mansion. It hadn't changed, not even after he'd been living there for almost two years now. It was very late but she knew he was awake. She could see the tiny flicker of light from the candle he used in the family room for reading. She wondered if he didn't sleep because he too heard those cruel voices. He could tune them out though. He was numb to everything and voices would be no different.

She licked her lips and opened the gate slowly. It creaked on it's hinges somewhat, but the rain would wash away any sounds made outside. She was thankful, she didn't want to have to explain herself to early. What if she chickened out and decided not to ask him for help. She wouldn't do that though. She was bound and determined to march right up those steps to his front porch and knock on his big creepy door. Why then were her legs suddenly not working?

_**You are afraid little one, for you know he will turn you away. He doesn't associate with cowards like you. You, darling, deserve to live with the voices you have, or be damned to death by your own hands. He too, believes you should have died that day. What would the world be like if she were still alive? It would be happy, would it not? She brought happiness to everyone she spoke to. What do you bring? Does everyone love you little one, I don't think so. They all want you dead…**_

With the voice's mocking laughter in the back of her mind and willed her legs to move again. She would do this. If for anything than the sake of her sanity. She couldn't go on living with those degrading words constantly haunting her.

Once on the porch she raised a tentative hand to the door and knocked softly three times. She waited so long after that she thought he must've not heard her and when she raised her hand to knock again she was surprised when it opened in front of her. She looked up to see his face through the darkness. She swallowed hard and put her hand back to her side.

Instead of his usually donned cape he wore nothing but a simple black shirt and she could see the entirety of his features. She felt like getting lost in his blood-red irises. He eyebrows pulled down into a slightly confused look. It was obvious he wasn't sure why she was there.

"Hi Vincent." She said hesitantly. Her voice sounded so weak and strained. She was so nervous and so very tired. She just wanted to go to sleep and she regretted coming here before she let her body regain it's strength.

"Tifa." He said in his usual monotonous voice. He nodded only once and then stepped aside to let her come in. As she took her first step over the threshold she jumped slightly at his voice, "Is there something you wish to discuss?" He asked her.

"Something like that." She answered in a mere whisper, he'd heard it though. She was sure he'd heard it. When he closed the door behind her she was overcome by the silence that filled the room. It was so complete she new that he could hear her very breath. She was afraid to break the sweet silence that seemed to engulf her. But of course, it was her that broke the silence, even without meaning to.

It was at that moment that the first drop hit the floor. She'd heard the diminutive sound and she knew that with his ears he'd heard it too. She looked down at the floor where the drop of crimson fluid had hit. It was mixed with the clear rain but the redness was very visible. She watched as a few more drops hit the same exact spot making the small bloody puddle grow.

She chanced a look at him now and what she saw amazed her. His eyes were trained on her and she could swear there was emotion behind them. A mixture of confusion and horror. He knew what was happening and he knew what she'd done. One look at his all knowing face was enough to make her fall into his arms from fear and exhaustion. Seconds later she was unconsciously laying in his protective embrace.

Note: I don't really like this song but I felt it almost inevitable to have a Linkin Park song. So tell me what you think.


	3. III: Colors

**Disclaimer: Still... nothing... well that is except Lyris... He's all mine...**

**Note: So sorry you guys these chapters keep getting shorter and shorter... I think this is my shortest one though so for all of you who like long chapters things will get better... I hope... I am in love with the song Colors by Crossfade so yeah I hope you enjoy it...**

Chapter 3: Colors

_/Can you feel it crush you /does it seem to bring the worst in you out/There's no running away from these things that hold you down/Do they complicate you /because they make you feel like this/of all the colors that you've shined this is surely not your best But you should know these colors that you shine are/Surely not the best colors that you shine/I know you feel alone yeah and no one else can figure you out/But don't you ever turn away from the ones that help you down/Well they'd love to save you /don't you know they love to see you smile/But these colors that you've shined are surely not your style/But you should know these colors that you're shining are/(I know you're feeling like you're lost)/But you should know these colors that you're shinin are/(I know you're feeling like you're lost, you feel you've drifted way too far) /But you should know these colors that you're shinin are/ Surely not the best../(I know your feeling like your lost)/Colors that you shine../(but you should know these Colors that your shining are)/Surely not the best../(I know your feeling like your lost you feel youve drifted way to far)/Did you know these colors that your shining are./_

He'd carried her to his bed only a few minutes ago. He'd laid her down on the soft mattress and then went strait to the bathroom adjacent to his room. He filled the sink with water and submerged a washcloth in the warm liquid. He only slightly noticed that his hands were shaking violently as he wrung the cloth out and walked back to his room where the unconscious girl lay. She looked so peaceful in her tired state, but he knew better. He knew why she was so pale, why she had collapsed onto him just a few moments before. She'd looked so tired and she spoke in a way that told him something was very wrong.

It was early in the morning now. The rising sun was just barely coming through his closed curtains and fell over her as she lay sprawled out across the bed. Her left arm was dangling over the side and there was a small crimson puddle on the floor under her dripping sleeve. He swallowed hard and moved closer to her.

Setting the warm cloth down on the table beside his bed he turned to her. He knew he had to be careful and moved with the precision and speed that he'd become famous for. Using his claw to hold her up, he removed her soaked sweatshirt. Careful of her arm, he set it down next to him on the bed. Now that he had that out of the way all he had to do was see the wound she'd inflicted on herself.

The sleeve of her black shirt was already pushed up past her elbow. It too was covered in blood as was almost everything she had on. He creased his brow in a mixture of emotions. Though he'd been the cause of so many deadly wounds he was disgusted at the sight of the blood and the mad gashes running up her arm. He was angry that she'd done this and not gone to get help, she needed help. Of course, that was why she was there wasn't it? He inwardly chided himself for being so angry when she had come to him to get help.

Aside from all that though, he was frightened. He was scared of anything happening to her and he wanted more than anything to wake up and find out this was all just a bad dream. He knew that wasn't going to happen though and he took the more logical route of trying to get her cleaned up. She was a mess and he knew the wound was not sterile.

He took the cloth in his hand again and wiped softly at her wrist. The blood didn't come off very easily so he found himself rubbing harder at the wound, finally it started to wash away. With the new pressure of the cloth the bleeding seemed to stop and he felt himself sigh with relief on that thought. It was what he saw next that had him holding his breath.

Starting at her wrist the slashes Tifa had made on her arm started to take shape. First the letter L showed up, then Y, then R, then I, then S. Vincent watched, horrified as each letter became visible. They were definitely made by her; as the figures each faced her direction. They were the only cuts made, it was no coincidence that they spelled out that name.

He wondered what significance that name had to her. What attracted her to it and why was she carving it into her arm. It was so jagged on the edges that, had there had been other slashes made, Vincent probably wouldn't have been able to tell they were letters at all. Like some kindergartener writing on paper for the first time.

After he was finished cleaning the wound he got up from the bed again and threw the cloth down next to her. She didn't stir, he noticed. She lay sleeping still with no movement as to show she even knew he was there, looking down at her. She looked so peaceful in that moment. Her hair was fanned out around her, still wet from the rain, and her lips were parted in slumber. He wondered just how much sleep she had gotten that night. She was a ghostly pale, more so than usual. Her inky-black lashes shadowed her face and contrasted greatly with her milky-white skin.

He turned to leave, he couldn't watch her anymore. It was watching one of his friends sink to the bottom with nothing to keep them afloat. He couldn't be her lifeline and he knew it. After this was all over he'd have to send her on her way to go get help elsewhere. This type of thing required someone who didn't know her, who didn't remember the optimistic, cheerful girl she used to be. It required someone who didn't think about a smile on those god-forsaken lips she wore a frown on now. Someone who didn't dream of her warmth when there was nothing but cold. Someone who wasn't emotionally attached to her, and he was anything but. He would admit to himself, if just to get it off his chest, he loved Tifa Lockheart. He'd fallen in love with her while she was still clinging for dear life onto Cloud Strife.

Speaking of the mercenary, where was he in all of this? Surely he knew what Tifa was doing to herself, he had lived with her after all. Yet, then why was the martial artist coming to him instead of the blond she seemed to have an undying love for? Where was Cloud when all this happened? Was he a part of it somehow? Vincent felt his blood start to boil when he thought about what Cloud could have done to make Tifa this upset.

He was pulled from his thoughts abruptly when he heard a small whimper behind him. He flipped around quickly to find Tifa's eyes open and set on him. He returned her gaze unwaveringly and she didn't flinch from the sight of his scarlet irises the way she used to. It almost made him smile. Almost.

"Vincent." Her voice was still strained and weak but he heard her just the same. He averted his eyes from hers and looked down at the wound on her arm. It was starting to bleed again and he scolded himself for not remembering to put a bandage on it before he left.

He moved to the small bathroom once more and pulled open the drawer on the right hand side of the sink. He dug through and grabbed a long bandage. He walked back to the room and sat down at the bed again, still not looking her in the eye. With her arm wrapped up he made to leave again but her voice stopped him.

"Vincent… Vincent I--"

"Shh," He cut her off, placing her arm across her stomach and turning worried eyes to hers. "You need to rest now. Go to sleep, we'll talk later. Just right now, you need to sleep." He'd never sounded so desperate in his life, but she did need to rest. If she was going to make it through this at all she needed her strength back.

He didn't see her close her eyes as he walked out the door and into the hall. He didn't see the lone tear travel down her cheek, or her hair brush against her forehead with the wind. And he most definitely did not see the small smile that graced her lips. She was safe and that was all that mattered to him, but as for himself, he knew this was going to be the day he finally broke down.

**Note: So? Was it any good? If it's getting too cliche I'm sorry... I want to thank everyone who's reviewed... I write for you guys... and for the sake of my sanity, but we won't get into that... I know I'm torturing both of my favorite characters, but hey, that's what I'm good at... torture is my specialty... ask anyone who knows me... well I'll leave you to the review button (that's that little button at the bottom of the screen if you forgot)...**

**love and be loved Ayumi**


	4. IV: My Sanity on a Funeral Pyre

**Disclaimer: Me: Square-enix, can I have Final Fantasy VII? Square-Enix: No... Me: Damn...**

**Chapter 4: My Sanity on a Funeral Pyre**

_/Paranoia is the insect working its way/Through my subconscious thoughts/It's the larva of self doubt/Gestating in my heart as I spiral down/And everything I touch is breaking/And it falls to earth in splinters/And I shiver as every splinter/Finds its way underneath my skin/And after 22 years I can still make my skin crawl/Every shortcoming, a pitfall/On my way to making amends/Within myself to be what I became/Sometimes it feels like the whole wide world/Has made itself my enemy/But I will stand upon my own two feet/And raise my head up/I lick my wounds/Trying to cleanse the infection/Rabid and diseased reality fades away/When I pushed myself too far/A dream of emotional perfection/Has left a wounded heart/Trying to perceive the gifts inherent inside me/It's like squeezing the trigger/It's like opening fire/On everyone who's let me down/On every beautiful lie that is only fiction/For the first time/I'm losing control and I like it/Freedom feels like the noose is gone/ -Atreyu_

She woke with a splitting headache just like she knew she would. Her arm hurt like never before and she was a little slow as to catching on why. Then she remembered the night before. Her brow creased at the thought of what she had done, she hadn't seen it and frankly she didn't want to. The blood was seeping through the bandage though and she could tell how bad it was.

The sun was low in the sky, judging by the colour of the clouds it was setting. She'd been asleep since when she'd passed out in Vincent's arms the night before. She wondered how long that was.

Despite the pain it caused she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her head spun and she was overcome with a wave of dizziness, but she was determined to do this. She needed, more than anything right now, to just be out of bed. Standing on wobbling legs she crossed the room to the bathroom it was connected to. She stumbled inside and took a look in the mirror.

She made a face at her reflection. Never in her entire life had she looked this horrible. Her long brown hair fell limp, sticking to her neck and shoulders with sweat. Her skin glistened with perspiration, a sure sign that she'd had a fever and it had broken. Her lips were rimmed blue and her eyes seemed sunken, the usual fire completely gone from them. She was pale, more so than usual and she was skinny. It would take a lot to recover from what she'd done this time.

At that thought her gaze moved back to her arm. The bandage was dyed red and it was soaked with her blood. She creased her brow when she tried to think of exactly how bad the wound really was. She remembered the fight between she and Cloud, she remembered picking up the glass from the floor, she remembered the actual process of cutting her arm open. However, for the life of her she couldn't remember what the end result was. Why hadn't she looked to see just what she had done to herself last night? She'd wasted no time in running to Vincent's house.

She moved her other hand to the bottom of the bandage. It was just as wet as it looked and she winced a little as she bumped the bandage against the wound. It was sticky and would be painful to rip off, but she was determined to see what was underneath it.

Just as she was about to tear off the first part of the bandage she heard the noise of a chair scraping across the floor downstairs. She pulled back immediately and looked to the doorway from where the noise was heard. She walked slowly to the door and out into the hall. Completely forgetting about the wound she moved to the top of the stairs in the mansion. From here she could see the kitchen where the tall, crimson-eyed man was located.

He was seated at the kitchen table with a newspaper in his hands. Looking closer Tifa could see a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. The way he looked right now reminded her of Cid and it took everything she had not to burst out in laughter. It was a really funny sight. She decided instead to just go down to join him.

He didn't look up on her way down the stairs or even when she sat across from him at the table. She knew he knew she was there though. Everything was quiet, while he sat there reading and smoking and she watched him do so. The silence was killing her, she wanted him to say something to her, to look at her, to acknowledge her presence in any way at all.

"Good morning, Vincent." She said trying to get his attention. Her voice was still as weak and strained as before and had a new underlying substance: fear. She was afraid that he would never speak to her, she was afraid he actually would. He'd made his judgments about her last night, she was sure of it. She just wasn't so sure she wanted to know what conclusions he'd come to on his own. The man was a little strange, who knew what went through his head. However, if he were to say something she could confirm her thoughts and not be sitting here wondering.

He didn't say anything, not that she'd really expected him to. He didn't even nod, and that was quiet even for him. He was ignoring her and she knew why. She bit her bottom lip and wrung her hands looking at the table in front of her.

"That's alright Vincent, you don't have to talk to me. It's not like I wanted you to anyway." She said. She expected him to do just what he did, turned the page and smashed the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table beside him. He acted as if she hadn't even said anything.

"Who is Lyris?" He asked suddenly, catching Tifa off guard so she jumped at the sound of his voice. It wasn't angry or cheerful, just as unemotional as ever. It would have made Tifa sigh in relief if she'd known what he was talking about.

"What?" She asked.

"Who is Lyris?" He repeated placing the paper down on the table and turning his gaze to her. "You have that name carved into your arm. Whose is it?"

Lyris? How did he know she had that name carved into her arm? He must have cleaned her wound also, instead of just wrapping it like she thought he had. Of course, that didn't surprise her, Vincent had been a Turk and he had traveled with them a year ago, he would know to clean it before dressing it.

"I don't know." She admitted, averting her gaze from his. "I don't know who it is."

"So you just carve random names into your skin?" He asked his voice seeming to get a harder tone to it. He was mad at her, she could feel it and she turned frightened eyes back to his.

"What other names are there Tifa?" He asked. The way he spat out her name made her wince and she caught her breath. "Where else have you etched them into your body."

"There are no other names." She said almost inaudibly.

"None?" Vincent asked over the voice in her head. His voice was laced with skepticism. She shook her head and he nodded once. His blood-red eyes bored into hers and she swallowed hard. After a moment his gaze softened and he looked away.

"How long was I sleeping?" She felt she had to ask. She didn't quite trust her inner clock at the moment.

"Three days." Vincent answered stiffly.

"Three days?" That shouldn't have come as a shock to her but it did.

"Why did you come here Tifa?" he asked, his voice had completely lost it's angry tone. Instead Tifa heard something there she never had before, it was almost as if he was about to start crying.

"I'm sorry I bothered you." She said meekly. He creased his brow at her comment and opened his mouth as if he was appalled.

"You never bothered me, I was just wondering why you sought out my attention instead of one of the others." He explained.

"One of the others? Who?" She asked.

"I don't know, Cloud perhaps." At the sound of the blonde's name Tifa's eyes watered and she bit her lower lip.

"Cloud left… last night." She said. Vincent's eyes narrowed at this and he sat back in his chair. Tifa looked up at him as the first tear fell. "He said I should've died, and Aerith should still be here."

If Tifa thought he been angry before she didn't want to know what emotion was going through him now. At the sight of his face Tifa broke down, she put her head in her hands and cried into them. She heard his chair scrape on the ground and she suspected he'd left the room. She was surprised to feel his gloved hands on her upper arms pulling her up and into his arms. She let her tears fall from her eyes and onto his shirt.

"He said he'd rather me be dead Vincent. He's never said anything like that to me before." She said into his shoulder. He didn't say anything, just held her and rocked slightly back and forth.

Putting her at arms length he looked her in the eye. "You know that's not true Teef." He said.

"Isn't it?" She asked her tears not entirely gone.

"Tifa what are you talking about?" He asked getting a little scared. "You think people actually want you dead."

"Cloud does." She said. "Aerith should still be alive Vincent, she brought happiness to the world. What do I bring, nothing, I'm no one of importance. People loved her Vincent, she did amazing things. She saved the planet and people love her for it. Who loves me for doing the things that I did on our journey."

"People love you Tifa." Vincent frantically tried to convince her. "So many people love you."

"Who?" She cried. "I've done nothing to help, I stayed back and let Aerith save the world. What part did I play in that? Aerith did everything, she won and she's winning again. Even now she's warning me to watch out and I'm not even listening to her. What kind of person am I? She's telling me to pay attention and I was too caught up in my other damned voices to listen. They want me dead Vincent, all of them. I need you, you have to help me. You can ignore them, how do you ignore them? I'm sick of this. They're killing me and that's exactly what they want."

"Who's killing you Tifa?" Vincent broke her off with his soothing voice.

"They won't leave me alone. They want me dead." She kept crying.

"TIFA!" Vincent yelled, cupping her head in his hands to get her to look him in the eye. "Who are they?"

"The voices." She said and Vincent's brow creased farther down than she'd ever seen it before. "They want me dead Vincent. They're gonna kill me, he said so."

"Who's he?" Vincent was only getting more and more confused.

"I don't know. I don't know who he is, but he talks to me. Yells at me and tells me they want me dead. He says the only way to keep them from killing me is to kill myself. I don't want to die by their hands Vincent, I don't even know who they are. If anyone's going to kill me I want it to be someone I know." Her tears ceased when she saw the look on Vincent's face. A look of understanding.

"No one knows you better than yourself." He said nodding his head.

"I don't want to die Vincent. I need to know how to ignore them." She pleaded.

"You want me to teach you to ignore the voices in your head?" He asked her and she nodded her head in affirmation. He almost chuckled at the foolishness of such a question. It sounded like he thought her crazy. If he didn't know any better by his own voices he really would think that of her. He wasn't crazy though and he knew she wasn't either.

"I can't" He said simply and let go of her head.

"What?" She asked in shock.

"I can't teach you Tifa, I don't know how to myself." He explained.

She felt her heart break again. He was her last chance and he'd just told her he couldn't help her. She needed help, someone needed to tell her what was going on inside her own head. Maybe she really was crazy. Maybe she should just give up and go back home, at least there she didn't have anyone to stop her from ending her life.

**Note: So what'd you think? Should I go through and change some stuff? I don't know anymore... I don't think I like how OOC Vincent was in this chapter... he sure did talk an awful lot huh? Well don't forget to review... I love you, all you good reviewers out there... You all should skip over to my other story, it needs some love... Well, there's the review button...**

**Ayumi**


	5. V: The Deep End

**Disclaimer: "Damn..." -Ayumi, when she found out she didn't own anything**

**Note: Sorry it took so long, this chapter was hard to write. And to tell the truth I'm still not very pleased with it. I hate filler chapters and this is exactly what this is... It might take awhile to understand what's going on, but remember, Tifa and Vincent don't know what's happening either. Be comforted by that...**

Chapter V: Deep End

_/I built my life like my bike on a rigid frame/So nothing bends it only breaks into pieces and pieces/I waited for hope to arrive but it never came/Leaving me with only pain inside I'm going off the deep end/Holding on is harder than it seems/When you're reaching for so much more/Seems so much easier to just give in/When you're reaching for so much more/Another wasted Saturday so here I stay/Where nothing seems to ever change anyway hey/All this hype about life bein' great/Where's the love for me these days/I'm going off the deep end/-Crossfade_

At that moment all she wanted was to just be able to fall asleep. She lay in Vincent's bed once again with nothing to look at but the ceiling. This was the fourth time she had woken up that night and she was getting sick of it. The shadows on the ceiling twirled with her thoughts. She was now in a state of lethargy and the prospect of breathing was becoming hard to understand. She took slow, shallow breaths in and out. She knew she was on the cusp of death right then and it frightened her. She couldn't do anything about it though, she was too tired to do anything. Too tired, but not able to go to sleep.

She blinked a few times and swallowed hard at the lump in her throat. She wondered vaguely what Cloud would say if he saw her now. Would he be content, or would he want more from her? No one could help her and she would die here in Vincent's dark room for nothing. Nothing could come from her death except Cloud's happiness and Vincent's anger that he had to clean up the mess.

She shouldn't have come here. She shouldn't have bothered him. She should be wasting away in her own house where no one would have to worry about her. No one would worry about her. No one would…

She found her thoughts were becoming slurred together and she closed her eyes against the pain of an oncoming headache. She was more than frightened now as she felt her head swim with dizziness and nausea start to creep its way back to her. Turning over on her side slightly she felt a rush of blood to her head and she prayed to keep her balance. Who ever heard of someone getting dizzy while laying down?

_**Tifa…**_

She opened her eyes quickly to the sound of her name. It wasn't a man's voice so she knew Vincent wasn't calling her. She flicked her eyes around the room searching for the source of the noise. Then it hit her. She moaned inwardly at her discovery and rolled back over onto her back. She closed her eyes again trying to ignore the voice.

_**Tifa…**_

It wasn't going to leave her alone, but she didn't want to answer it. She sighed audibly. Again the voice said her name and this time she finally recognized. Sitting up suddenly, she disregarded her instability.

_Aerith?_

_**Tifa… help…**_

_Aerith_ _what, I don't understand… _

_**Help him…**_

_Who?_

_**He needs you…**_

_Aerith who are you talking about?_

_**Hurry, before it's too late…**_

_Please… I don't know what you're talking about…_

_**He's coming for me…**_

_I don't understand… who's coming for you… who needs me?_

_**Lyris…**_

_Lyris? Who is Lyris?_

_**You must help… Only you can do it… Only you can fight it…**_

_Aerith, I'm so confused… What do I need to fight?_

_**Only you… Please Tifa… Stop him before he kills you too…**_

_Aerith?_

_Aerith? Where did you go? Aerith!_

"AERITH!" She screamed to an empty room while falling back onto the bed in near unconsciousness. She was only abstractedly aware of Vincent walking quickly into the room. She felt him sit down beside her and put a hand to her forehead.

_**He's trying to see how close to death you are. Wishful thinking…**_

Fresh tears fell from her eyes as the return of the normal voice that plagued her. The sound of Aerith's voice didn't bring any kind of comfort, it just confused her more. She hated being confused, and Aerith acted as if she should know about Lyris. She didn't even know who Lyris was. How was she to fight something that she knew nothing about?

She felt the ghost of a hand on her back and her head lulled as she was lifted into a sitting position. The hand didn't leave her, but kept her from falling back onto the bed. She cracked her eyes open just a little to see a concerned look on Vincent's face.

_Maybe I really am dying… Please Vincent don't leave me…_

**_Oh he'll leave you little one… he'll leave you here to die like you were supposed to. I'll drag you under myself if I have to._**

"Please… don't leave me…" She said out loud without realizing it. Fighting against the voice she pounded on Vincent's chest. She eventually wore herself out and slumped against the torso she was previously beating.

"I'm not leaving Tifa." She heard the faint voice of her friend say. She wanted to smile but she was quickly losing consciousness again. She welcomed the darkness that would swallow her gratefully. Sleep was a way for her to escape reality, even if it was fitful. It was sleep still the same.

Vincent wasn't talking to her anymore, but she wasn't aware of anything on the outside anyway. She only heard the low drumming of her own heart. She felt the familiar heaviness in her head and tumbled into the dark abyss of her mind letting herself succumb to the darkness.

It was different though; somehow it seemed less empty. She remembered this black chasm to be completely void of feeling of presence. She struggled against her fears that something else was with her this time.

Inside that inky black arroyo she saw a faint white light. She felt herself get pulled toward it and she made no effort to stop. When she was sure she was going to run into whatever it was making the light she was pulled to a stop with a slight tug around her abdomen. She was aware only vaguely that she was floating. Reaching out with one hand she went to touch the light. It was the purest thing she'd seen in a long while. She desired nothing more than to feel that pure.

_**Pretty little thing isn't it? **_

_What is it? _She asked the voice. She didn't even worry about who it was talking to her now. She just wanted to touch the light, but every time her hand would get close it seemed to move further away.

_**Your thoughts little one. It is your pure thoughts… see how they're shrouded by darkness? Just like everything else in your life. Nothing you own is pure, it is always tainted.**_

_Tainted…_

_**Tainted…**_

_Where did Aerith go?_

_**She couldn't survive long in your thoughts… she was a pure thing in something so completely tainted… you killed her in your thoughts too Tifa… **_

_No! I won't believe it… Aerith! Where are you?_

_**She's not here little one…**_

_Please, bring her back…_

_**I can't…**_

_No one can…_

_**She is dead… and you can join her soon little one… just once more… take the blade once more…**_

_No…_

_**NO! I will not say this anymore Tifa! Do not oppose me! Cloud was right… **_

_No… I need to help Aerith. He wasn't right. I'm the only one who can help her. She said so…_

_**What makes you think she wasn't lying…**_

_Aerith wouldn't lie to me…_

_**And why not little one? She is the one who's dead… The dead always envy the living… she wants your life Tifa… Go Tifa… let her take you… just go through the pure light… She is there waiting for you… you deserve this…**_

_Deserve this…_

_**Cloud would be happy… Vincent wouldn't have to take care of you anymore… you'd lift the burden right off their shoulders… **_

She nodded her head in agreement to the voice and concentrated harder on reaching the white light in front of her. Pure thoughts in a sea of tainted ones. Aerith would be there, she could help her there. And she wouldn't be a bother to Vincent or Cloud anymore. She needed to do this. For the sake of her friends.

**Note: So how was it? I know, I know. More confusion. Don't worry though it'll all make sense in time... I have to find a song for the next chapter and then I'll post it... that could take days though, I don't try to plan these out... well, don't forget to review... I'll see you soon.**

**Yuums**


	6. VI: The Game

**Disclaimer: Come on guys, honestly.**

**Note: Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. Really I feel awful. I had exams all last week and I have a massive Honors English project due tomorrow. Wow the workload of that class is amazing!**

_The Game_

_/How have you been, nice to see you again/How quickly these conversations seem to end You meet a friend, every now and then/How quickly these relations turn into trends/Put all your walls up and open your windows/And close all your doors/You catch yourself standing in front of the mirror/And now you need more/What do you wish for/To catch you as you're falling/So easy to ignore/But now you hear it calling again/I wouldn't want to be you/This lonely game that you play/Between your walls you confuse/Every heart that you break/So afraid that you'll lose/Always a void to replace/I wouldn't want to play you/You try and pretend, the truth is hard to bend/How easy these translations can be read What if you were led to play a different game instead/How hard these frustrations are to mend/Does it matter to you/Just Wait/ -Trapt_

Sometimes people mistake death for happiness. They think that to die would get rid of all their problems. They wouldn't have to worry about anything in that ecstasy of a place. The problems would melt away and they would be left to a paradise within themselves. It's foolish and a false accusation of something they'd never experienced. Tifa Lockheart was one such a person.

She stood in the middle of the endless field of flowers, watching as the petals drifted with a wind so gentle it barely stirred her hair. A thick fog had flooded the field as soon as she'd stepped foot onto the ground painted yellow and white, but she didn't mind. It didn't take the beauty from the place and she found herself becoming more and more content here. She closed her eyes and relished in the sweet scent of the flowers around her.

Everything was basked in a iridescent glow. She could see the lights through her closed eyelids. It was comforting in a way. She really didn't know why. Maybe, because the color reminded her of Aerith. Everything here reminded her of Aerith. It was peaceful.

"You're finally here." Tifa heard a little voice behind her. She flipped around to see a girl standing only a few feet away from her. The girl was in a black dress, adorned with lace and white ribbons. It was a dress she recognized. Something from the past?

"Who are you?" Tifa asked curiously. She kept her voice as soft as the girl's had been. She didn't want to frighten her. By the sound of her giggles, Tifa decided she wasn't afraid.

"Silly, even you should know that one." The girl said with a bright smile. A smile that lit up her pale face. It showed teeth and scrunched up her…

Her red eyes.

"Oh my… Are you… me… Is your name…" Tifa couldn't finish her words. All speech had left her by the time the little girl had come up and taken her hand, leading her away from the middle of the flower field.

"It's okay Tifa." The little girl said. "I was frightened too. The first time I came here. The flowers are pretty, huh? I pick them everyday. I picked some for you."

"Stop." The older woman said pulling her hand back. "No, where are you taking me?"

She was more than frightened now. She was looking into the eyes she'd become so accustomed to seeing because they were her own.

"We must leave here." Smaller Tifa said. She looked up at her older self curiously. "Don't you want to see?"

"See what?" Tifa was confused and scared and she was seriously regretting coming here now. She didn't know she would meet a younger version of herself here, and to tell the truth she wouldn't have wanted to.

"_Him." _The younger girl put emphasis on the title of whoever she was talking about. She smiled brightly and took Tifa's hand again. "He's been waiting for you. He sent me to fetch you. He said you'd come today."

Gods, even the little girl's voice sounded like hers. She remembered a phase she went through when she was younger where she spoke in riddles. It was quite the same way now. The black dress, the cryptic words, the innocent smile. She felt she was looking in a mirror when she was eight years old.

"Tifa," the older woman said her name in caution. She watched the girl's hair flare out when she turned to see her future self, "why are you wearing that dress?"

"It was my mommy's favorite dress. I wanted to wear it for her, but she couldn't say anything about it." The girl's eyes got a little hazy, as if in a trance of a memory.

"Why couldn't she say anything?" Tifa knew the answer, but she had to confirm it.

"She was dead." The girl said matter-of-factly. Memories flooded Tifa's mind, the thought of her mom's funeral. The dress she picked out the night before because she knew it would be the last time her mom could see it. The devastation of not getting a compliment on it from her mom like she had wanted to. The naivety of those days almost overwhelmed her. She hung her head as tears welled up in her own eyes.

"Hey look, there's Vincent!" The younger Tifa said, making the older one lift her head in surprise.

Sure enough, leaning against a tree was a young man. His hair was cut short, with his bangs left to hang in his eyes. His skin was paler than even hers and he wore a blue suit, similar to the ones she'd seen the Turks wear. He smirked at her with thin pink lips and black eyes. The familiarity of him was uncanny. She believed it really was Vincent.

"It took you long enough." The teen said with a silky voice. All doubts that this adolescent was Vincent Valentine left her. His voice hadn't changed over the years. Though his choice in words seemed to have.

"Oh, sorry Vincent!" Smaller Tifa said enthusiastically. She let go of the older woman's hand and ran to Vincent. He picked her up and held her against his side, while she laid her head on his shoulder. The two of them looked back to the twenty-year-old.

"Well," Vincent said looking through his long bangs at her with a crooked smirk, "are you coming or not?"

"Would you mind telling me where I'm going?" The woman said. Vincent's smirk just became more profound.

"I told her he wanted to see her." Little Tifa piped up, lifting her head off of Vincent's shoulder and looking at him.

"You did a very good job Teef. I shall look into some candy for you when we get back home." Twenty-year-old Tifa watched as the younger version of herself was kissed on the forehead by the teenaged Vincent. It was cute, how close they seemed to be.

Vincent laid the little girl's head back down on his shoulder and motioned for the older one to follow him. Tifa didn't really expect her legs to move so quickly. She expected to protest more, she expected to not move at all. All thought of escape left her as she saw Vincent wrap his arms tighter around the little girl and turn to walk away. She knew she could trust these two.

**Note: Hope I didn't disappoint. Leave me a note if you feel like it. It would be greatly appreciated.**


	7. VII: Shallow Sleep

**Disclaimer: I own nothing I swear...**

**Note: Hey guys, another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it.**

_Shallow Sleep_

_/just saw you/Beyond the course of time/A room that we once shared /But my memory's a haze/Forgetting what was said /I gently held out my hand /And in that perfect moment /You disappeared I lost you over again /In a shallow sleep I dreamt I was seeing you /Just how I remembered /Brimming with tenderness /And somewhere in the caim /A feeling that nothing had ever changed /Your presence close beside me till I wake /I just saw you /A moment far too brief /Before the daylight came /But my heart is beating fast /Perhaps we'll meet again /In a shallow sleep I dreamt I was seeing you /Just how I remembered /Brimming with tenderness/And somewhere in the calm /A feeling that nothing had ever changed /Your presence close beside me till I wake /I see you until I wake from shallow sleep/An artist without a brush /Can't paint upon the canvas /Without you here there is no colour /A colourless landscape /In a shallow sleep I dreamt I was seeing you/Just how I remembered /Brimming with tendrness /And somewhere in the calm /A feeling that nothing had ever changed /Your presence close beside me till I wake /I see you shallow sleep/ -hyde_

He paced the living room of the mansion for the hundredth time that night. He seemed to himself so out of character, but he'd been this way since she'd come to stay with him. He could hear every sound that went on in his house at the moment. The clinking of metal on metal as it hit together in a black leather bag, the dripping of his faucet in the kitchen, the air being moved about by the ceiling fan above his head. Nothing seemed to calm his nerves as he remained in the small, dark room against his will.

He could be doing something much more productive. He could be helping in some way. He couldn't just stand here and allow her lose her life. If she wasn't going to fight, he would do it for her. He wanted her to wake up, he wanted her to be healthy, he wanted her to live again, live through this. Hell, he needed her to live through this. She was always the perfect example of how things could get better after they were devastating. She was living proof that the world wasn't as cruel as it seemed, and she was throwing his reassurance to the wind. She was his reassurance. He needed her to remember why he was still here.

He didn't remember the exact time that he realized he loved her. Maybe it was that first night she came up on deck to talk to him after a long day with Cloud and the rest of the group. She had talked to him all night, not caring that he said precious few words to her in return. They had spent many nights on the deck of the Highwind talking. Eventually he did come around, and the two formed a strong friendship. He had never really spoken to anyone. Hell, he still didn't talk to anyone just for fun. But she had somehow forced his words out of him, and he didn't hold back from her any longer. She had treated him like a human, something he hadn't felt like in such a long time.

He needed her more than she realized.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard someone walking down the stairs. He raced to the foyer to see the doctor coming down. He waited as patiently as he could for the doctor to get to his level, but the suspense was enough to drive him mad.

"How is she?" He asked, surprised that his voice was as steady as it sounded. The look given to him wasn't very encouraging. The doctor sigh heavily.

"I'm sorry." He already didn't like the sound of this. "She's not doing well. I have to say, I'll be surprised if she makes it through tomorrow."

"There's nothing you can do?" Vincent asked desperately.

"I'm afraid not," The doctor said, "It would be helpful if I had some materia. The wounds on her arm are infected. We'd need something to heal them for her to have any chance of survival."

Vincent hung his head. There was no materia left in the world. The people had destroyed it in an attempt to forget the past mistakes of Shinra. No one thought they would ever need it again. Wanting to live life without the aid of magic was proving difficult though. For some it was all they'd ever known. They didn't remember what it was like to have to watch a loved one die without any means of help at all. Now they were feeling it wasn't such a good idea to get rid of it all.

"Thank you doctor." Was all he said as the old man walked out of his house with desolate steps.

He turned his head to the stairs, the only thing separating him from her. He took to them silently, he'd been treading his house this way for the past hour. He wasn't one to break habit.

He'd called for the doctor only moments after she had gone under. She had stopped talking abruptly and had fallen into him, breathing heavily. He'd laid her down on the bed and watched as her condition grew steadily worse. Eventually he couldn't watch her suffer anymore and called the doctor. Something about her inner struggle was harder to watch than anything he'd ever seen. It brought back memories of his own nightmares and he was almost glad when the doorbell had startled him out of his reverie. Then he became angry when the doctor wouldn't let him stay with her. He was just a bundle of confusion today.

He walked into his room to find her just as he'd left her. She looked somewhat like a doll, with her arms down at her sides and her body in a strait line on his bed. It was odd for her to sleep like this. He could recall one time when he'd had to wake her one morning on the Highwind. She had been so spralled across the bed he was afraid she'd slept through a tornado that had jumbled her body so. What a weird sight she was then.

Sitting down cautiously on the bed as not to wake her, he brushed a few locks of her chocolate hair off her face. Her lips were turned up at the corners. An almost peaceful smile gracing her features, as if she was content where she was.

Maybe it was for the best she stay there. She wouldn't have the torture that was the voices she heard in her head. He knew that torture all too well. His own was almost enough to drive him to the same drastic measures she had put herself through. He knew she would do anything to stay sane, or as sane as she could be. And if that meant to leave him here alone, he could nothing to stop her.

Even with her laying right beside him, he felt so alone. Tears threatened to overtake him and he admitted it to himself. There was no living for him if she were to die now. He wouldn't be able to let himself go on without her. It was selfish and he would be punished for it in time, but that didn't matter to him now. She wasn't fighting, it was clear as day. He would have to fight for her.

But how?

The doctor said she probably wouldn't make it through tomorrow without materia. The wounds on her arms would need to be healed and he'd have to have some way to get to her.

He had neither of these things. No one did in Nibelheim or any other place in the world. Unless…

Grabbing his PHS off the nightstand beside the bed he dialed the number. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. He hadn't used his phone since meteor, and today he'd used it twice on Tifa's behalf.

When he heard the familiar voice answer the other line he said the one thing that came to mind.

"I need your help."

**Note: Did you like it? I wanted to update this story so badly, I hope nothing seemed to rushed. If so let me know. I do enjoy reviews as well as appreciate constructive criticism. **


	8. VIII: Crawling in the Dark

**Disclaimer: I think you all should know by now. **

**Note: I'm so very sorry it took me this long to get this chapter up. Seriously I have tons of things going on right now. I had OGTs (Ohio Graduation Tests) this past week and I've sort of neglected this chapter. I'll tell you now, this was not an easy chapter to write, I think I struggled with it for a good three weeks. But, no matter. I should stop making excuses and let you guys read, huh?**

_**Crawling in the Dark**  
_

_/I will dedicate/And sacrifice my everything for just a second's worth/Of how my story's endingAnd I wish I could know if the directions that I take/And all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing/Show me what it's for/Make me understand it/I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer/Is there something more than what i've been handed/I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer/Help me carry on/Assure me it's ok to use my heart and not my eyes/To navigate the darkness/Will the ending be ever coming suddenly/Will I ever get to see the ending to my story/Show me what it's for/Make me understand it/I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer/Is there something more than what i've been handed/I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer/So when and how will I know/How much further do I have to go/How much longer until I finally know/Because I'm looking and I just can't see what's in front of me/In front of me/Show me what it's for/Make me understand it/I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer/Is there something more than what i've been handed/I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer/ -Hoobastank_

_  
_The farther Tifa found herself following the younger two in front of her, the more anxious she became. The forest around her seemed to be closing in, the trees making dark shadows on everything in their path. She found herself flipping around to look behind her more than she normally would. Even the journey to defeat Sephiroth had not made her this agitated. She wondered vaguely what was so much different now.

"No one is following us, so you can relax." Vincent said over his shoulder after he observed her looking around frightened for the fifth time. Her eyes snapped to his own when she heard his cold voice.

She was more than a little surprised to see a slight smirk on his face, knowing the older version of the man would not have had such an expression on his face. She found herself liking the smile a little too much. Blushing in embarrassment of both acting like a fool and thinking of the teenaged Vincent, she turned her face away from his quickly. Instead she focused on her own body.

She noticed right away that something was missing. Creasing her brow in confusion, she brought her arms closer to her disbelieving eyes. One run of her fingers over the smooth flesh of her forearm confirmed her thoughts. Her scars were gone. Where angry jagged inflamed flesh had just been, was creamy soft skin. She found herself smiling at the thought that it could be real, but the grin was short-lived.

The scars that she had had should not have heeled that quickly. In fact, she was pretty sure some of them would not heel at all. So why was she looking at her unflawed forearm instead of a marker of her hardships.

"Vincent," she said quietly while moving closer to the teen, "where exactly are we?"

He looked down at her in disbelief. His eyes gleaming in the sunset. Something was different about them, she noted, but wasn't about to search for a reason.

"La Foret D'armes." He said after a while. "The Forest of Souls."

He kept walking, Tifa following close at his side. The younger Tifa had long since run ahead of them. Skipping on her little legs, she stopped only when Vincent told her not to get too far. He did that very thing then and turned to the twenty-year-old fully.

"I know you don't understand at the moment, but it will all make sense when he tells you." Vincent said. He looked worriedly to the younger version of the girl standing beside him. "Just a warning though," he continued, "don't always believe what he tells you."

"I'm never going to understand, until you tell me who this person is though." She replied

He smirked knowingly, making Tifa's stomach churn with desire again. If only the Vincent from her own world would do that sometime. She found herself drawing closer to the younger man. She knew this was wrong, but he wasn't backing away. In fact, he reached out and wrapped a slender hand on her side, pulling her closer. The smirk never left his face.

"Vincent!"

Tifa was pulled from her thoughts abruptly when she heard the young man's name being called by a tiny voice. Vincent chuckled just once, almost rolling his eyes at her, and turned to find his younger friend far away from the two of them. Instantly his expression changed.

"Tifa!" He shouted frighteningly. He walked furiously in the little girl's direction. "Tifa, what did I tell you about running off!"

The smallest of the three of them shrieked in mock surprise when Vincent caught up with her and threw her over his shoulder. She hung upside-down for a while, then lifted her head to look at the older woman's face with a broad smile.

It was the woman's turn to smirk now. She loved the way her two leaders reacted toward each other. They were just like brother and sister. The older sibling constantly watching out for the younger one who always found trouble.

"Vincent," young Tifa said when they had resumed walking again.

"Yes," was his monosyllabic response.

"Can I pick some more flowers?"

"No," again with the simplistic answers. He was on a roll with them.

"Please?" It seemed the little girl would not give up in a hurry.

Vincent set her down finally and bent to her level. She had a look of a lost puppy dog, and it appeared to be working on him. He sighed heavily.

"For a little while. Only a few minutes, okay. We've got to get going--" He didn't even have to finish his sentence before the little girl was running in the opposite direction.

"Don't run off too far." He reminded her once more, watching her retreating form climb a grassy hill.

"You seem to care for her very much." The older woman said, coming to a stop beside him. He looked to her and then away again. Tifa wondered if she'd said something wrong.

"She's all I have." He replied sincerely. He walked a few paces ahead of her, only to look over his shoulder to whisper, "don't listen."

"What?" Tifa asked, not quite sure if she had really heard the words leave his mouth.

"When we get to our destination, there will be someone. He will give you a lot of information, a lot of things you need to know about us. I just ask that you keep an opened mind. If it doesn't sound like a good idea, then it isn't. There is not a possibility to that statement. If you feel it's not a good choice, then it isn't."

"Oh, so now you're going to tell me something about this guy that we're going to see. I'm surprised. The Vincent I know would've taken the information to his grave. You sure grew up since your teen years." She giggled at her joke, but with another look at the man standing in front of her, she thought better of making such comments.

"You have to promise me something." He rounded on her now, his expression grave.

"Why do I have the feeling this is going to be difficult?" She was getting nervous at his sudden seriousness.

"Please."

The word had slipped through his mouth in such a fashion, Tifa was sure she was hearing things. The wind must have been playing tricks on her ears.

"Okay." She answered anyway.

"Promise me that you will not stay here," he began, "that no matter how appealing he makes it to you, you will not stay. You will go back to your time, to your body, to your Vincent. You will not be protected here if he is not with you. I cannot be your guardian as well as your younger self's."

"Vincent…"

"No," he said cutting her off, "no you said you'd promise."

"I do." She had never seen Vincent, younger or older, as excited as he was now. Not only was it abnormal, but also a little scary. She had a feeling this went beyond what he was telling her.

"You promise?" He asked hopefully and seemed to shrink a little when she nodded an affirmative.

"But, Vincent…" She said, taking a step forward, "what is this really about?"

He sighed heavily, giving in to her just as quickly as he'd given in to her younger self. He motioned to the girl on the hill and Tifa followed his hand to see her happily picking some yellow and white flowers, humming some old song to herself. Tifa remembered spending hours making up her own tunes when she was younger.

"If you stay," Vincent said softly, "she'll leave. She'll have to leave."

He turned worried eyes to the woman standing beside him. "She's all I have."

Tifa's brow creased in confusion. Everything she'd learned that day just seemed to be adding up and filling her to the max. She was afraid she might burst soon, from lack of options on what to do with her newfound knowledge. She turned back to the teenaged Vincent. Never before now had she noticed how very childlike he still was. The thought of being alone completely undoing him. His gaze found hers once more.

"What are you?" She asked in a barely audible whisper.

He didn't answer right away, and for the first time that day she realized what was so different about this Vincent and the one she knew from another time.

His eyes were still an innocent honey-brown.

**Note: Well? I hope you all liked it. Seriously, I put a lot of thought into this chapter, and I still ended it on a cliffy. I should see you all soon. Love you all and love your reviews! You guys are the reason I keep going. I've got a plot worked out in my head, but knowing me, I'll end up making this thing really long and elaborate on a lot. If you can't already tell, it's almost impossible for me to write a short story. English class killed me this year. **

**Ayumi**


End file.
